


Sunshine in the dark.

by willowmellontree



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Crime Scenes, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-08
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-01-25 17:26:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21359926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/willowmellontree/pseuds/willowmellontree
Summary: Greg is having a stressful day at the yard...that is until he sees a beautiful stranger standing in the dark.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/Greg Lestrade
Comments: 3
Kudos: 42





	1. Chapter One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greg is having a stressful day at the yard...that is until he sees a beautiful stranger standing in the dark.

** 31st January 2005 **

Greg was having a stressing day at the yard. It seemed the murderer of this young girl had utterly vanished, not leaving a smudge of evidence. He was briskly walking back to his car to get warm when he saw another man lingering at the edge of the crime scene. He was standing there, in the middle of the road observing his surroundings. Greg thought he would see what the man was up too because it seemed a little suspicious. The other man had black curly hair and ashen skin. His eyes were dark as a night sky but held the beauty of the moon in them. He was wearing a black Belstaff coat with a blue scarf and leather gloves. Greg couldn't move any closer, and not only because it felt like he was frozen to the tarmac beneath but because he'd never seen another man this mesmerising and radiant.

In the end, Greg decided that he would have to talk to this man. Maybe even get a name, and if he were exceedingly lucky, which he wasn't, then he would have his phone number by the end of the hour. The other man only realised that Greg was walking towards him when they were a few meters apart. It took about a minute for Greg to speak as the words couldn't come out.

"Um. Excuse me sir, but this is a crime scene, and unless you have clearance, you can't be here I'm afraid." His throat felt dry.

The other man gave him a look and not more than a few seconds later; he began to talk. "I'm here to solve the case. I don't have anything on me though." 

His voice was deep and sent shivers down Greg's spine. "I'm sorry, but I can't let you in without any identification or permission to be here."

The other man sighed. "I'll give you some proof. I'll do anything, but I need to be here and do something to keep my mind preoccupied."

"Tell me who you are, and I might let you here at a later date. But for all I know, you might be the killer." Greg said.

"Highly unlikely," Sherlock spoke gruffly. "You're a D.I., and your boss wants to promote you, but you're just fine where you are. Your wife is cheating on you with a mechanic, and she doesn't know that you know. Your hair started greying at the age of around fifteen due to stress, but you are only twenty-seven. By the way, I think your hair makes you look handsome, and the name is Sherlock Holmes. I can tell that you won't let me in now so I'll see you around Detective Inspector. "Sherlock winked at him and was about to turn around before he said. "Oh, and I think you should go and see the victims, uncle. You might find that he is her murderer." And with that, Sherlock Holmes walked into the night with his hands in his pockets and collar turned up.


	2. Chapter Two

Greg had his head in his hands a few days later. He could feel a migraine coming on, and still had an hour left at work with nothing else to do. The yard was silent, and most of the lights were off, so remained uninterrupted. With a sigh, he turned his computer on and looked up the strange, beautiful man he'd met three days ago. At first, he couldn't find much but then discovered his full records.

  
**Name: William Sherlock Scott Holmes**

  
**Born: 6th January 1983**

  
**Age: 22**

  
**Lives: 11 Montague Street, London.**

  
**Job: Unemployed**

  
It was only a half an hour away by bus, so Greg packed up early. London was dead, so there was little chance of anything coming up. He got off the bus and searched for the right house. Taking a deep breath, he knocked on the door and waited for a solid thirty seconds before it opened. And there stood Sherlock Holmes wearing a grey baggy shirt and a blue dressing gown, staring at him in surprise.

  
"Why are you here?" He questioned. "I wasn't expecting you to come."

  
It took Greg a moment to reply. "How could I not." Oh God, why was he flirting with this pretty stranger? But in return, Sherlock smirked and opened the door wider to let him in. Inside was cosy. Everything was colour coordinated but a mess. Anatomy books were thrown everywhere, and a few microscopes were in the mix. A skull was placed on the fireplace, casting the only light in the room. It was quite atmospheric, and it immediately calmed down his migraine.

  
"Do you want anything to drink?" Sherlock asked uncertainly. He obviously didn't have many visitors.

"Um, no thanks."

  
Sherlock indicated him to sit down. "So, why did you come?"

  
The honest answer was I don't know. I had no idea why I left work early and gone to visit someone I hardly knew.

  
"Um, because I have a case?" I lied.

  
He saw right through it. "I doubt it. You only read me up not an hour ago, and you didn't even finish everything."

  
"But you seem ok." It was a stupid excuse. I could tell by his eyes that there was something important that I hadn't read up on yet.

"What did I miss?"

  
He sighed and flung himself onto his sofa. "I'm an addict."

  
He felt my heart sink. "Well, I could see past it. When was the last time you used?"

  
"Before I highjacked the case, you were working on the other day." He closed his eyes.

  
Greg could tell that the conversation had come to an end, so he got up to leave. "If you need anything, come up to the yard."  
He didn't acknowledge it, but Greg knew he heard. He left the house and faced the crisp air and swore to himself to go back tomorrow.


	3. Chapter three

Greg waited. He waited for a chance that he could go and see Sherlock. He waited a week. Two weeks. A month. The entire of winter and spring went by and Greg still couldn't go back. It wasn't that he was busy, it was that he didn't think it was the right time. Everytime Greg thought of Sherlock, his mind went fuzzy and butterflies flew around his stomach. That was why he didn't go. 

In the middle of a hot June afternoon, there was a murder. Nothing too gory, but the yard was completely stumped and couldn't figure out a single suspect. That was until a certain Sherlock Holmes came walking up, with his hands in his coat pocket and solved it within seconds. Greg went up to him and the air seemed to go a slight bit hotter then the 23degrees it was. 

They stared at each other for a few seconds before Greg cleared his throat and spoke. "Aren't you a bit hot in that?" It was an obvious question but it was all he could manage.

Sherlock looked down as if he had only just noticed he had his coat on. "No, it's fine." It was a pitiful lie but neither of them commented on it.

They both stood there awkwardly. 

"So would you like to go and get a drink?" Greg asked. He had no idea which part of him had the courage to do that but it was probably the same part that has been catching criminals for the past few years. 

Sherlock just shrugged but looked relieved. "Can do if you want."

So they both walked, side by side, to the nearest pub and sat down to have a drink. They talked about work and things like that but soon enough the alcohol got into their systems.

"So. Do you have anyone special attached to you?" Greg asked him. It didn't really make sense but Sherlock got it after a few seconds.

"What. No if course not. Why would I want a person stuck to me?" He answered. "How about you Lestrade. Do you have a human?"

Greg shook his head. "Nope. Completely unattached." He was slightly inebriated. We'll, I say slightly.

Sherlock smirked. "I think I should take you home. You've had too much and you have work tomorrow." He put some money on the table and have carried Greg to find a cab.

Greg tried to find his keys but then he remembered that he left them at the yard. He told Sherlock this but the other man just rolled his eyes and told the driver to go to Baker street. When they got there, Greg and Sherlock went upstairs onto his flat.

"What am I doing here?" Greg asked. He was completely confused.

"You've lost your keys so I'm letting you sleep on my sofa. You're a describe Greg, you should have guessed that. "He then studied Greg and sighed. "Though in your state, I doubt you could do much. I've never seen such a light weight before and you're not even drunk." He went to get a duvet and pillow for the sofa. "Here you go. Good night."

Greg watched him go but before he could escape to his room, Greg called him back. "Sherlock, wait." 

Sherlock came back and looked annoyed. "What, I need to do important work."

Greg walked up to him and kissed him softly on the lips. It only lasted a fleeting moment before Greg backed away and smiled at Sherlock who sees to have been turned into a statute. "Night Sherlock."

> * * *

In the morning, Greg woke up with a slight headache and a stiff back. 

Sherlock was sitting in his chair and eating a slice of toast. He looked up and saw Greg was awake. "I've never known anyone get drunk on a pint of beer."

Greg put his hand on his head. "I think someone spiked it." He stood up and walked to the bathroom and then suddenly remembered. He swore very loudly which make Sherlock smirk. 

When both of them were ready to go to the yard, Sherlock pulled Greg into a small ally and pushed him against the wall. They looked into each others eyes and Sherlock leaned into a proper kiss. They moved their lips together in sync and it was the best feeling Greg had experienced. It felt like fireworks and it felt like hours had gone by but at the same time, it wasn't long enough.

Sherlock pulled away. "That was to say thank you for the drinks last night." He walked away leaving Greg Standing there. 


	4. Chapter four

Over the next few years, he had stolen little make out sessions with the man that he loved. Nobody knew about it though. Not even Mycroft (who had kidnapped him a few months ago and threatened him.) Greg new that Sherlock wasn't a person who showed little outbursts of sentiment in public so they kept it as privet a possible. Except for the few times in the middle of a case that they couldn't resist each other.

Sergeant Donovan nearly walked into them twice, when they were kissing in his office. Hopefully she was as stupid as Sherlock said she was, because surly she would've noticed his tie thrown across the floor and his shirt untucked. It was a weird relationship really. They never talked about it. In fact, the only time they talk is when it's about a case. The kissing just happens and then they get back to what they were doing before.

Sherlock was getting a lot better and hadn't used drugs for just over a year and Greg felt very proud.

* * *

After a few more years of secret kisses, they began to talk more about things. It was September 2009 and they practically did everything together, from the most gruesome cases to just hanging around each others flat for no reason. They just kept staring into the galexies of eachothers eyes. Then one day, sherlock went up to him out of nowhere and hugged him.

"I don't know what would happen without you." It was random but Greg saw that he had been crying. Something that Sherlock would never do Infront of anyone.

"What's wrong?" Greg asked. He was generally concerned.

Sherlock shook his head. "I can't say it. Not yet." And then he walked off which confused him extremely.


	5. Chapter 5

It was Christmas Eve and Greg had just gotten home from his evening shift. He opened the door to his flat and found Sherlock sitting on his sofa and looking into the red roaring flames that lit up the room, as well as some cinnamon-scented candles that were dotted about the place. Sherlock didn't seem to notice Greg come in so obviously he was In his mind palace. Greg shrugged off his winter coat and flung it onto the back of a chair. He sat next to his lover and closed his eyes for a little while but he didn't realise that he had fallen asleep. He woke up about an hour later to find Sherlock's head resting on his shoulder but he was still awake and he lifted his head so they could both see each other's faces. Greg exhaled heavily as he got lost in the other man's eyes. Today they appeared to be an aesthetic of blue and stormy grey which generally meant that he was in a pleasant mood. One thing that Greg had learned about Sherlock was that his eyes often changed colours but you would only notice it if you stared at them long enough every so often. People assume that the younger of the two is always grumpy and rude and just altogether all together unpleasant to be around all the time, but no, that was only when his eyes turned dark brown and they only turned dark brown if he hadn't slept for a while because of a case or something. They turned dark green and grey when he was in a neutral mood and they turned pure cornflower blue when he was feeling a lot of emotion that he couldn't handle. Those times really scared Greg as they were the times that Sherlock usually made rash decisions or crashed down completely and shut down his mind and that could happen for days at a time.

"I thought I was going around yours for tomorrow morning." Greg said softly."

"I know, but I got impatient and bored and I wanted to bring presents over." He said back in his low voice.

Greg smiled softly and the little victorian clock he brought in an antique shop, chimed midnight. "Merry Christmas."

Sherlock only quietly murmured it back as he still didn't like to show outbursts of sentimentality in he could help it. Most of the time, he couldn't. Especially when it concerned Greg.

At some point in the morning, they both fell asleep peacefully in each other's arms and woke up early in the afternoon in which Greg made them coffee and pancakes before they opened each other's presents. Greg got Sherlock a new magnifying glass as his old one got smashed on a case and Sherlock got Greg a book all about the science of deduction.

"That's so you understand what I'm going on about when we have a case," Sherlock said once Greg had unwrapped it.

"I love it, thank you," Greg said back.

Sherlock smiled at getting the right thing for Greg.

Then out of nowhere, Greg said. "I love you."

And that was the first time either of them said I love you to each other.

Sherlock froze for a second and then turned his head around before also saying. "I love you too Greg."

**\/**\/**\/**\/**\/**\/**\:"^":/**\/**\/**\/**\/**\/**\/**\/**

Some more time passed and within just over two years, they met John Watson and solved a number of cases. John became a very good friend to both of them but he didn't know about them being together. Just how they wanted it. Greg thought that it was hilarious that Sherlock purposely forgot his name every time John was about.

He was sure that he was falling in love with him more every day but it was harder to be together as the crimes in London suddenly shot up and John kept showing up everywhere so it was nearly impossible. Nearly.

It just made the times they were alone more special and they managed just fine. Everything was completely fine, until that night in late spring 2012.

Greg had just gotten off his shift and found Sherlock sitting on his sofa again like he normally did but this time the atmosphere was different. He made coffee and sat down next to him while giving him one of the mugs. Sherlock turned to look at him but his face was completely emotionless. Apart from his eyes. They were bright blue and Greg's heart skipped a beat.

"Sherlock..." Greg started to say but Sherlock beat him to it.

"I'm fine Greg. I'm just very busy so this might be the last night we have together for a while." He said. There was something else behind those words but he didn't say anything.

Greg took a sip of his coffee. "What do you want to do?"

"I've made some dinner. It's in the oven at the moment." He said.

The older man nodded and he went to set the table. The timer pinged on the oven and he took out the dinner that Sherlock had made and put it on some plates along with a salad. He poured some lemonade into some glasses and called the other man over. They ate in silence until it was finished and the cleaned the plates away. Sherlock grabbed his coat and slipped it on while Greg watched him. Sherlock went up to him and threw his arms around him. They stayed like that for a while before he pulled away and they just looked into each other's eyes.

Sherlock sighed. "I love you." He whispered quietly and before Greg could say it back, he left the flat and shut the door.

Greg thought it over in his head and felt like that was too much like a goodbye.

The next day Greg got suspended for refusing to arrest him and the day after that, he got a text from John that Sherlock had jumped from the top of st Barts hospital. His whole world stopped and he slid down the wall to the floor of his flat and he stayed like that for a few days. He didn't want to believe it. He thought that maybe autocorrect had taken over Johns's phone and maybe it was supposed to say that Sherlock was in a mood so he stood up, put his coat on, and made his way to Baker Stree. He knocked on the door this time. Normally he walked straight in but it didn't feel right this time so he waited outside until Mrs. Hudson opened it. She gave him a sad look and let him in. Greg suspected that Mrs. Hudson knew about him and Sherlock.

She looked at him and sighed. "Greg Lestrade, you don't look like you've eaten or slept for a few days." He stayed silent. That was enough to confirm that Greg hadn't eaten or slept for a few days. "Come inside dear. I'll make you a cuppa."

He followed her into her flat. Even if he didn't want to stay, there was no use in arguing with Mrs. Hudson. She also made him a sandwich in the process and kept talking about Sherlock but he didn't say anything.

He interrupted her halfway through a story she was saying about him. "He's not dead, is he?" He asked as if it has only gotten to his head.

Mrs. Hudson looked at him sadly. "I wish I could say otherwise dear. You know he really looked up to you a lot and he really loved you."

Greg bearly heard her. "I killed him didn't I." He said.

She looked at him in slight confusion. "How could you say that?"

"I could've stopped it from happening. I should've stopped them from thinking he was a bad person but I didn't." He stood up and grabbed his coat. "Thank you for the tea, Mrs. Hudson." He walked out and went anywhere in London. He just walked about and went back to his home and cried. He honestly thought it was his fault.

Another year went by. People say that it gets easier as time went on but in Greg's opinion, it got harder. He tried to go out more often and talk to people but all they wanted to talk about was Sherlock's death so he held it off. One Thursday, he and John went down the pub to get a pint of something. John kept going on about how Sherlock had affected his life and about the impact on his death had on him. Every second made Greg more angry and guilty until John said something that made him blow.

"You're lucky Greg because he didn't like you as much and you weren't really close. It really affected me and I can't let go of him." John said while sipping alcohol.

"How do you know we weren't close?" Greg asked dangerously.

"You never really seem to be together. It took me six months to get over the fact that he was dead. Did I tell you I have a girlfriend called Mary? She makes the pain better. Don't you have someone that you love to make it better?" He asked.

"I did," Greg answered again.

"Oh no. What happened?" He asked

Greg finally had enough and said very loudly, "He flipping jumped off the roof of a hospital. That's what happened."

John looked taken aback. "The same way as Sherlock. That's cruel."

"Are you kidding me. It is Sherlock. We've been together for seven years for christ sakes and do you know what's worse? I don't think I can ever let it go because I killed him." He left the pub and went back to his flat. He closed himself in for a month and didn't talk to anyone. He didn't open the curtains or go out to shop for anything. He started thinking about the worse things possible. Like 'Did he leave because of me.' and 'Maybe he only liked me because I had cases to offer.


	6. Chapter six

Sherlock came back two years after he fell. When he saw his brother, the first thing that came out of his mouth was, "How's Greg?"

Mycroft looked at him sadly but didn't say anything. Mycroft's people got Sherlock ready to go back into London and sort everything out but Sherlock kept asking everyone how Greg was. 

Mycroft let him out and Sherlock told a few people he was alive. He went to see John first and he reserved a black eye and a bloody nose. He asked John if Greg was ok but he didn't answer either as he was too furious to give an answer. Next, he went to see Mrs. Hudson and she gave him a sad look so he just went to look for Greg himself. He found him in a car park and he looked half dead. He had dark shadows under his eyes and his face was almost transparent. He looked like he had been crying and he hadn't been looking after himself. Sherlock was going to say something clever but the sight of his Greg broke his heart. 

"Greg?" Sherlock almost whispered.

Greg turned sharpishly and stared at him. It was quite sometime before he spoke. "Are you real?" He questioned. His voice sounded raw like he hadn't used it for a while.

"Yes." Sherlock bit his lip. "Yes, I'm real."

Greg sighed deeply and threw his arms around him. They stayed like that for a long time before Greg said. "What did I do Sunshine? Why did you go?"

Sherlock was momentarily confused but caught onto what Greg was saying. "Greg, you didn't do anything. None of this was your fault ok. I was trying to protect you from Moriarty. He had snipers on you, John and Mrs. Hudson and If I didn't jump then they would kill you and I could never live with that. "

A few tires started to go down Greg's face and he pulled away. "Promise to never do something like that."

Sherlock sighed. "I'll try not to. " He gave him a small smile. "Nice to know you missed me."

Greg smiled back at him. "You are a right Bastard you know." He told him half-heartedly. "Come on then. Let's go back to my place and you can tell me all about this mission you had going on for two years."

"How did you know it was a mission?" Sherlock asked him.

Greg took his hand. "I know you too well Sherlock."

The younger man smiled. "I missed you too by the way."


	7. Chapter seven

It didn't take long for Greg to forgive Sherlock fully. It only took a week but that was only because he still had a hard time believing he was alive. Greg went to Baker Street and the two of them spent the day together. They stayed in the flat and Clilled on the sofa while some music was playing. 

"Have I ever told you that you're the most beautiful person on the planet?" Greg asked him while Sherlock's head was in his lap. Greg had been playing with the other man's dark curly hair which normally calmed him down. 

Sherlock opened his eyes and smiled a little bit. "Multiple time over the past nine years. I can't tell you how many though because I lost count at about fifty-seven."

Greg leant down and kissed Sherlock on his forehead. "You'll be pleased to know I have a case."

Sherlock's eyes lit up and he suddenly jumped from the sofa and went to the kettle to make some tea. "Really? What's the rating?"

Greg went up to him and but his arms around him from the back. "About a nine and a half."

Sherlock poured the water into the mugs. "Brilliant. When can we go?"

"In an hour if you want," Greg told him as he took one of the mugs.

Sherlock grinned. "Love you, Greg."

"I love you too Sunshine." 


End file.
